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We are Tam Page 5


  Ken placed the newspaper under his chair and sighed loudly. "There's no peace on Saturday in this house. If I go to the nursery with you, will you go to the races with me?" he bargained.

  She nodded, laughing at him.

  Steven left his boots and leafed through the newspaper. Something on the third page caught his eye.

  "Can I show this to Tam please, Dad?"

  Before his father could answer, he was off. He made a quick phone call, then raced upstairs, two at a time, bursting into Tam's bedroom.

  "Look at this," he pushed the paper under her nose.

  Tam's eyes opened slowly. She looked dazed, her face pale and puffy.

  "You look awful," he told her.

  "Leave me alone." She pushed him away and the newspaper fell off the bed. "Go away."

  "No time for that. Listen to this." He read from the paper. "The Lord Mayor is to bury a cylinder containing 20th century money, photographs, microfilm, records, sound and video tapes and newspapers. What do you think of that? Too excited to wait for her answer, he jabbed his finger lower down on the page and read again. "Professor Darwin Taylor is preparing the documents and articles to be placed in a time cylinder guaranteed to last one thousand years. Don't you see? If the clue is in the cylinder, all we have to do is find out exactly what's in it. Then Tameron won't need to go back into Oldcit, and it won't matter that she has lost the cylinder."

  Tam tried to think, but her eyes felt heavy and her head full of cotton wool.

  "Seems like a good idea. How can we find out?"

  "I've started on that already," he smiled. "While you were sleeping, I rang the newspaper and asked for a complete list of what's in the cylinder."

  "And?" Tam fought her drowsiness.

  "They don't know any more than what's in the paper. The professor's being very secretive, but they did tell me where he works."

  "Where who works?"

  "The professor! Come on. Get up and help. We can go and ask him."

  "That's a good idea," answered Tam.

  "What is?" he asked suspiciously. She didn't look as if she'd heard a word he'd said.

  "Whatever you said." she answered vaguely.

  "You'd better buck up. I thought you were worried about your mirror-image friend. If you aren't careful, Mum will keep you in bed all day."

  His words rang like an alarm bell. Tam scrambled out of bed swaying unsteadily on her feet.

  "Of course I want to help. She's my mirror-image, isn't she? It's just, I ..." her voice petered out as she rubbed her knee. "Ever since I hurt my leg, I've felt odd. I don't even remember coming home."

  "There's nothing wrong with your knee, and I got you home, practically carried you! We just made it in time. Lucky Mum was busy and didn't notice how dopey you were," said Steven.

  "Thanks Steven."

  "That's okay. How about we go to the Library this afternoon?" He tried not to sound impatient, because she looked pretty sick.

  "Why the Library?"

  "Because, dillbrain, that's where the Professor works!"

  Their mother was in the garden sweeping up leaves when Tam cam downstairs.

  "Hi, Mum," she yawned. "Need any help."

  "You don't look fit to help anyone! Did you have a good sleep?"

  "Yes, thanks."

  "Is it all right if we ride our bikes to the Library after lunch, Mum?" Steven broke in.

  "What after last night. Tam looks exhausted."

  "I'm not really tired," Tam assured her. "A bike ride would wake me up."

  Her mother rested on her broom.

  "Well, I suppose so ... but I'm worried about you, miss. First headaches, and ... ."

  "Hello, everyone. Morning, Mrs Woodward." Shona's curly brown head appeared over the back fence. "Are you lot doing anything interesting?"

  Pat waved at her. "Hello Shona. Do be careful, or you'll fall."

  "It's okay. I'm balancing on my bike seat. Are you going for a ride, Tam?"

  "Well ..." Tam looked at Steven. He made a 'no' sign.

  "They want to ride to the Library," said their mother, beginning to sweep again.

  "Oh great. Can I come?"

  There was a loud crash as Shona disappeared. Tam and her mother ran to the fence and looked over. Shona lay on top of her bike.

  "Ouch. That hurt," she moaned, grimacing up at them. "Are you going now?"

  "After lunch," answered Tam. She shrugged her shoulders at Steven's frown. "We'll meet out front."

  Steven followed Tam inside. "Are you going to tell her about .. ."

  "No, but she is my best friend. I couldn't say no."

  It didn't take them long to ride to the Library. Shona chattered all the way, shouting remarks over her shoulder as they rode single file through the city traffic.

  As they wheeled their bikes across the prk, Steven explained to Shona that he had to see a professor at the Library about something.

  Tam walked beside them as if in a dream.

  "This park is called the Garden of Learned Thought," she said.

  "No it's not," argued Shona, looking at her strangely. "It's the Botanical Gardens."

  "In the future it is called the Garden ... ."

  "Look we're almost there," interrupted Steven changing the subject as fast as he could.

  They lay their bikes on the grass beside the Library.

  "Will you watch the bikes, Shona?" asked Steven. "We won't be long."

  The Library was a grand stone building with four fluted columns topped with carved scrolls. Four large bronze doors, embossed with portraits of important people, opening onto a long foyer with a mosaic floor. Steven climbed the steps quickly, then realizng that he was alone, ran back to the bikes where Shona was leaning over Tam.

  "I think she is sick," she said.

  "What's up, Tam?" Steven knelt beside Tam.

  "I'm to tired to walk. I'll never be able to ride home if I don't rest. I'll fall off my bike."

  "But we're here already," he urged.

  "I just have to rest."

  "Let her, Steven," urged Shona. "You go, I'll watch her."

  "All right, " He ran up the steps again and through the bronze doors, then pushed open the glass door behind them.

  "Can I help you, lad?" The friendly voice came from the official leaning on a desk.

  "I'd like to see Professor Taylor please."

  "The Professor, eh?" Well that's not easy."

  "But he does work here, doesn't he?" asked Steven.

  "Yes, but not in the public area of the Library. Go up those stairs, turn left, and ask at the end of the corridor. Watch out for the dragon though!" He chuckled as he pointed to the marble staircase.

  "Dragon?" Steven muttered as he climbed the stairs and made his way to the end of the corridor.

  When he reached the door, he knocked and waited, nothing happened. The sound of someone speaking continued unbroken. Pushing open the door, he walked into a small room full of papers and books. It smelt overpoweringly of sickly perfume. At the desk speaking into a telephone, was a very fat woman wearing a bright floral dress and an enormous, fluffy white cardigan.

  "Excuse me," coughed Steven.

  "What do you want? This is not the public library, you know," said the woman holding the telephone away from her ear.

  "I'd like to see the Professor please."

  "Impossible," The woman slammed down the phone.

  "I'd like to ask him about what he is putting in the cylinder that the Lord Mayor ... ."

  Back went the office chair. The large woman sprang to her feet and glared at him.

  "There! That proves it! I told him we'd have every Tom, Dick and Harry coming here asking questions. I told him. But oh no, he wouldn't listen! Going on about the future needing to know about the past." She shook her plump finger at him. "Now it's children wasting my time."

  "I read in the paper," persisted Steven, this time he smiled his hardest.

  "Where else? I told him we'd be bothered by fools and simp
letons, but he wouldn't listen. Well, you can't see him. He's much too busy. He's not a well man, and hasn't time for little boys."

  Steven didn't like being called a little boy, and he didn't like the way the large woman was advancing on him. She came around the desk, grabbed his arm and turned him around sharply. Then she opened the door and pushed him into the corridor.

  "Now go away, little boy. You're wasting my time," she ordered, slamming the door behind him.

  Steven straightened his jumper and gritted his teeth. He was furious. he could feel his neck going hot and red. What a nasty old bag! He glared at the door thinking of what he should have said to her. Then he noticed that the door opposite was ajar. He pushed it and it swung open to reveal an empty room. Without thinking further, he slipped inside and closed the door, until only a sliver of light from the passage entered. She had to go out sooner or later, he thought. He lay down on his stomach and watching through the crack, waited.

  Sure enough, it wasn't long before the door opposite opened. The dragon lady, as Steven now thought of her, came out and waddled down the corridor. he waited a second, then swiftly sped across the gap into her office.

  CHAPTER 11. THE INTRIGUING CODE

  Steven slipped past the desk and opened the inner office door. A tall man with greying hair and a small sharp beard stood talking to a bookcase.

  "These volumes deal with fourteenth and fifteenth century English history," he was saying.

  Steven looked around the room. It was full of books, shelves and shelves of them, but apart from himself and the Professor, the room was quite empty.

  "Excuse me, sir."

  The Professor swung round quickly, knocking over a pile of papers. Steven moved to pick them up, but the man waved him away irritably. He picked them up hurriedly and hid them beneath a large book on his desk. "You didn't knock. You're supposed to knock."

  "I'm sorry. I meant to, but I was in a hurry. Are you Professor Darwin Taylor?" Now that he was actually face to face with the Professor, Steven became tongue-tied. He was so worried that the dragon would return and catch him. He looked nervously over his shoulder.

  "Did Miss Fipps let you in?" demanded the Professor.

  "You're not allowed in here. It's private. Very private. No one is allowed in here. Please leave immediately. The Professor was working himself into a rage. His face turned red and he clenched his fists. Steven backed towards the door.

  "I just wanted a list of the contents of the Lord Mayor's cylinder. it's very important. You see a friend of ours ... ."

  The Professor slammed his fist down on the desk. Papers slid everywhere. His tired eyes flashed. "A list? Impossible! I've no time for such rubbish." Miss Fipps, Miss Fipps," he shouted. He picked up an ashtray and flung it at Steven. "Get out of here," he gasped, and fell back into his chair holding his chest.

  Steven dodged the ashtray and turned to run, but Miss Fipps was at the door, easing her way through backwards wile balancing two cups of tea on a tray.

  "Coming Professor, coming. I know you never eat, but I've bought you a cream bun.

  Steven stared at the large woman blocking the doorway and back at the angry man who was aiming a marble pen holder at him. and he dropped to the floor and scrambled through the small gap between Miss Fipps and the door. Wriggling quickly, he squeezed into the outer office.

  Miss Fipps, shocked by the unexpected movement dropped the tray shrieking at the top of her voice. Tea cups and saucers fell everywhere. A cup bounced off Steven's back, and as he escaped into the corridor, he felt the hot tea soaking through his jumper. He raced down the corridor, leapt down the stairs and tore through the foyer towards the large bronze doors.

  "Hey!" called the surprised official.

  Steven kept running. he dodged incoming people, hurtled down the stone steps and shot around the building to where Shona and Tam lay waiting beside the bikes.

  "Wake up, you two. I'm being chased."

  He leapt over their sprawled bodies, grabbed up his bike and jumping on it, pedalled off at top speed.

  Surprised, Shona sat up and watched him disappear around the back of the Library. Tam rolled over yawning.

  "What's happening?" she asked.

  "Don't know. Something about being chased."

  Around the corner lumbered a large, perspiring woman in a floral dress and fluffy cardigan. She was brandishing a tea tray and shouting at the top of her high voice. Behind her ran an official, pink with embarrassment.

  "Now, now, Miss Fipps. it's been an awful mistake. I won't allow any more children into the Professor's office. I promise."

  Miss Fipps, her face purple with rage, galloped towards the girls, who sat watching, open-mouthed. Puffing and panting the woman stopped in front of them.

  "He was with you. I saw him take his bicycle," she accused. She caught hold of Shona's sweater and pulled her to her feet banging her with the tray.

  "Hey, let go! shouted Shona, struggling free. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "That boy! That terrible boy!" screamed Miss Fipps, her face close to Shona's.

  Shona backed off fast to a safe distance, then hands on her hips, spoke back. "He's not terrible."

  "No he's not," cried Tam now fully awake and on her feet.

  The worried official caught hold of the tea tray as Miss Fipps swung it at Tam.

  "Please, Miss Fipps. You'll have a heart attack at this rate."

  "Heart attack! It's not me but the poor Professor who'll have one of those. The poor Prof ... ." Suddenly the woman stopped shouting, turned and lumbered away, leaving the official even more embarrassed.

  "It's just that she doesn't care for children and that boy must have upset her, he said, apologetically.

  The girls waited until the official was out of sight and then wheeled their bikes around the back of the building. There was no one in sight. The road was empty.

  "Psssttt. I'm over here. Has she gone?" Steven poked his head out of a clump of bushes near the road.

  Tam nodded. Steven's face split into a relieved grin. His blue eyes twinkled.

  "That woke you up, didn't it? Thought I'd really had it that time."

  He dragged his bike out of the bushes. They waited patiently as he removed leaves and twigs from his jumper. Finally, unable to contain herself any longer, Shona spoke.

  "Who was that?"

  "Miss Fipps.":

  "Miss Fipps who?" asked Tam.

  "Miss Fipps, the dragon who protects Professor Darwin Taylor. That's who. Not that he needs protecting. he's mad. He nearly knocked my head of with a marble ashtray.

  "She almost battered me to death with her tea tray," giggled Shona.

  Steven laughed so much he almost dropped his bike.

  Tam touched his jumper. "What's that all over you?"

  "The Professor's tea."

  "Did he throw that at you as well," laughed Shona.

  Steven made a face at her.

  "Anyway, that's the end of that project," he said winking at Tam.

  They rode home through the narrow, one-way streets of the inner suburbs. At her corner Shona suddenly remembered that she had guitar practice and, with a wave, sped off ahead.

  "See you at school, Tam. 'Bye Steve."

  "Trust her to forget her practice," grinned Steven. "What a dillbrain."

  "She's not," snapped Tam. "She just doesn't like learning the guitar. Anyway what really happened?"

  Steven told her everything, exaggerating the story of Miss Fipp's dreadful attack on him and how she had flung him bodily from her office. Tam was impressed.

  "I didn't accomplish anything though. We still don't know what's going in the cylinder."

  "What did he look like."

  "Sort of sharp and mean-looking. Tall, skinny. Had a pointed beard and wild eyes. Oh, and he's not well, Miss Fipps said so. And while I was there, he clutched his chest and breathed funny. I think he's mad."

  Tam tried to picture the Professor while she pedalled up onto the foot
path. Steven continued

  "He writes in strange symbols, like shorthand, though he hid it before I could really look at it. Talks to himself too."

  "I can't see how any of that will help Tameron," sighed Tam.

  "We'll think of something," Steven whizzed round their street corner. "Race you home. I'm starving."

  CHAPTER 12. THE MEETING PLACE

  That evening, Tam and Steven lay on the rug in front of the fire and made plans to find out more about the bad-tempered Professor.

  "He isn't in the phone book, so we don't know where he lives," said Steven, throwing a rolled-up ball of paper at napoleon.

  "What's the point? He won't tell us what's in the cylinder."

  "Tam's drowsiness was completely gone. She felt as refreshed as if she'd slept for a week. Napoleon pounced onto Steven's stomach and purred like a motorboat.

  "We could ring the Lord Mayor's office. They must have a copy of the list," Steven continued. He was pretending to wrestle with the cat as he talked.

  Tam sat up abruptly, listening.

  "Steven, she's calling me." Napoleon, his fur bristling, struggled out of Steven's grasp and raced out of the room. "See, Napoleon knows. Come upstairs quick!"

  Tam ran for the stairs. In her room she sat cross-legged on the floor and concentrated.

  "Tam ..." Tameron's voice faltered. "Tam, Tam ... ."

  It faded.

  Tam concentrated with a frown, her long blonde hair hanging over her eyes.

  "... and Older-parent has made me promise," came as a faint whisper.

  "Promise what?" asked Tam.

  "Promise never to leave the home-dome during night lighting again."

  "How did he find out about it?"

  Tameron's voice became stronger.

  "I had to return quickly to the home dome for a new body-suit. I damaged mine when I cut my knee."

  "She hurt her knee. See, I told you!" Tam said to Steven.

  "The pain is gone, and there is only a small mark left. I comarised for half a sunning to cure it."

  Steven nodded as Tam repeated this to him. "That's why you were tired all morning."

  "Older-parent is angry. His suit is purple. I have never seen it such a colour, and all for nothing." Tameron's voice broke.